


Gold and Lace

by Multiple_Universes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angry Son Yuri Plisetsky, Canon Universe, Fluff, M/M, Parents Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov, Podium Family, Road Trips, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-21 17:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9559955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiple_Universes/pseuds/Multiple_Universes
Summary: Three skaters, one car, small Russian cities – what can possibly go wrong? Or, as Yuri would put it: “It was awful. They wouldn’t stop flirting. They keep treating me like their son. And Victor nearly killed all of us!”





	1. We Need a Holiday

The sky was light and the sun was just above the horizon. A breeze blew over the Neva river, but it was still warm. Yuri Katsuki glanced at his phone for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. It was 1 am. It really was 1 am and yet it was light as day. This really was a white night. He sat next to Victor as loud classical music played and the Palace Bridge was raised. Around them the river was full of boats and the roads were packed with cars and tour buses. It felt as if every available space was taken by someone with a camera. The bridge rose until its two halves were almost perpendicular to the water and then stopped.

“I think we need a holiday,” Victor suddenly said.

“Why?”

“Why not? We’ve done nothing but practice since the season ended. And I think we should take a break. Even Yurio is starting to go stir crazy. It won’t be long, just a week. What do you say?”

Yuuri considered this. “I don’t see why not. I’m not sure Yurio will agree to come with us, though.”

“Don’t worry about that, I know how to change his mind.”

The boat drifted away from the Palace Bridge. They passed the Winter Palace with its many white columns. Yuuri watched the beautiful city drift by, still unable to believe that it had become his home. Cities like this felt like one big museum and surely no one lived in museums.

“It’s beautiful…” he whispered.

Victor put an arm around him. “I’m glad you approve,” he said as if he’d built it himself.

After a while Yuuri asked, “Do you have a specific destination in mind?”

“I did a little bit of research and I think a tour of the Golden Ring is a good idea.” He saw the blank look on Yuuri’s face and explained. “It’s a bunch of cities near Moscow. We can take an overnight train and set off early the following morning to avoid the traffic.” Moscow traffic jams were legendary, as Yuuri learned even living in St. Petersburg. “I’ve never been there myself,” Victor admitted, “but people say it’s a nice trip to make by car.”

“You want to drive from city to city?”

“It will be more fun than buses or trains. We’ll be free to spend as much time anywhere as we like and won’t be tied to a timetable.”

“Won’t you get tired of driving?”

“Of course not! And if I have my beautiful fiancé next to me in the passenger seat, I’m sure I can drive all the way to Japan, if he asks nicely.”

Yuuri blushed. “O-oh, alright.”

“Great! Then we can all forget about Coach Victor for a while!”

 

Yuri Plisetsky lay on his bed and wondered how long he could sleep in before someone decided to arrive unannounced or call him on his phone. Not a single day seemed to pass without Victor and Yuuri barging into his apartment and pestering him with their incessant chatter, or Mila calling and telling him about something he didn’t care about.

Not a moment of peace!

His phone rang and he considered hanging up the moment he saw who the caller was. Or, maybe, he could use this as an excuse to vent his frustration…

“What do you want? Can’t you leave me alone for one day? I’ve had it up to here with your never-ending nagging…” And so on. He went on for a good five minutes and only stopped when he ran out of breath.

“Ah! Good morning, Yurio!”

“Stop calling me that!”

“What would you say to a week’s vacation?”

“With you? Never!”

“With me and my dear Yuuri.”

“Yeah, like I didn’t get that. You two seem to be attached at the hip! You want to go, then go! Don’t drag me into your honeymoon!”

“Ah, but this isn’t our honeymoon. We’re going to go to Paris for our honeymoon. …What? Yuuri, I thought we agreed on this!”

“Oh, _Paris_ how original!” Yurio rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, this is just a short trip. I thought you might want to join us.”

“Then you thought wrong.”

“You’re not going to ask where we’re going?”

“I don’t care.”

“Golden Ring, Yurio! Isn’t it great?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

“And if you come with us, I can promise…” Victor paused as if considering what offer to make, “…to buy you any cat-shaped thing you like.”

“You can –”

“And we’ll take the train and then a car, so we won’t be limited by airplane luggage restrictions.”

Yurio opened his mouth to yell something obscene, reconsidered and grinned instead. “ _Anything_ I want?”

“Only if it’s a cat… And I won’t buy you living cats.”

“That’s alright. You have yourself a deal.”

“Great! Then I’ll let you know which day we’re going so we can get train tickets!”

“Hold on! You have to promise that you and Katsudon won’t go all lovey-dovey on me! Victor!”

But the line was dead.

“Stupid Victor!” Yurio flung his phone at the wall and sighed.

Oh well, it was something to do, at least. And the Japanese Yuuri and Victor weren’t _such_ bad company when they weren’t all over each other. He dropped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Why did Otabek live all the way in Kazakhstan?

 

Victor put his phone away and went into the kitchen where Yuuri was cooking.

“Yurio said he’ll be glad to join us.”

Yuuri gave him an incredulous look.

“Alright, I admit I bribed him.”

“What did you bribe him with?”

Victor smiled. “Guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that I never put in a link to photos I have of the places in this fic. Some people I talked to said that it was fun to read it with the photos for reference, so I'm including [a link](https://www.flickr.com/photos/115120419@N08/sets/72157673106419706).


	2. A Star to Navigate By

Yuri Plisetsky started regretting his decision to go with Yuuri and Victor the moment the train arrived at the platform and Victor threw an excited look at both of them. No, that was wrong. Yuri started regretting when the two skaters showed up at his house to pick him up and made a big fuss over how light his luggage was and asked stupid questions like did he have everything and did he tell his family he was going. No, that was _also_ wrong. He started regretting the week before when Victor dropped by for his passport so he could buy them tickets. No, he remembered, he started regretting the moment he agreed to go.

Fine. Whatever. He would just have to get his revenge somehow.

Victor climbed onto the train and took Yuuri’s luggage from him. Yurio’s luggage was next. Then the two skaters followed their driver.

“You should go to sleep right away,” Yuuri said to Victor. “You’re going to need lots of rest before tomorrow.”

Yurio rolled his eyes.

“You should get to bed now, too,” Yuuri told him.

“You’re not my mom. I do what I like!” He went off in a huff to claim the upper bunk. He climbed into the furthest corner of the sleeping compartment, pulled out his headphones and pulled his hood over his face so he wouldn’t have to see or hear anything.

They probably ran around making friends with people in the other sleeping compartments or just went straight to sleep, or whatever. Yurio didn’t care. He was on his phone, texting Otabek.

_I’m off to that stupid Golden Ring today. I bet Victor picked it for the name. I bet he’s going to get us lost in the middle of nowhere._

_Taking a break is good,_ Otabek wrote.

_Yeah, but this won’t be a break. This will be torture._

_It’s late. Why don’t you go to sleep?_

_Fine. Good night._

_Good night._

Yurio put his phone away and climbed down from his bunk to go brush his teeth.

Victor and Yuuri were already asleep, holding hands over the gap between the beds.

 _Stupid idiots!_ Yurio slipped out of the compartment as quietly as he could. Someone two compartments down was having a loud conversation and he went to shut them up.

 

Yuri awoke in the morning because Yuuri was shaking him gently.

“It’s time to get up,” he whispered.

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because Victor is still asleep. I thought he should get up last.”

“Fine, whatever,” Yurio slouched out into the corridor with his toothbrush.

When he returned Yuuri was leaning over Victor and kissing him gently on the cheek. “Victor, we’re almost in Moscow.”

“Hmmm…” He reached out and pulled Yuuri down towards him.

Yurio left the compartment hastily and closed the door.

A minute later Victor stepped out into the corridor, sleep in his eyes and his hair a mess. There was a sheepish grin on his face. Yurio peered inside and watched Yuuri toss the pillows onto the empty bunk and do the beds. His ears and face were red.

 _How long have you lived with him now?_ Yurio thought, knowing the answer to that question. “I’m hungry,” he complained, entering the compartment. “Is there any food?”

“Y-yes, I packed some.” Yuuri rummaged in the bags. “What would you like? I have…”

Yurio listened to a long list that included pancakes and consisted of nothing but Russian food. He shook his head. “You’ve gone all native, haven’t you?”

Yuuri opened his mouth to reply, but finding nothing to say, closed it again.

“Whatever. I don’t care. Just give me pancakes, even if they are cold.”

“They should be a little bit warm. I wrapped them in some tinfoil.”

“You’re just like my mom,” Yurio muttered and then glared at Yuuri. “Well, where are they?” he shouted, trying to cover up his earlier slip of the tongue.

“Good morning, my dear Yuris!” Victor exclaimed. He looked fully awake now, his hair brushed and arranged just right on his head, not a single hair out of place. Yurio rolled his eyes.

“Good morning,” he stopped himself just in time before the word ‘dad’ slipped out. He grabbed several pancakes and climbed up onto his bunk to eat them in peace.

“I have some tea,” Yuuri held up a thermos and a plastic cup.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Yurio held out his hand.

“Yurio, aren’t you going to say please?” Victor prompted.

“Fine, then I won’t have any tea.”

“It’s alright,” Yuuri said and handed him a cup.

 

Once the train arrived at Leningrad Station the three skaters went to pick up the car Victor was borrowing from a friend. The two Yuris stood outside while Victor went up to the owner’s apartment for the keys and a quick chat.

“Listen, Yuri, while Victor isn’t here I want to ask you not to bring up Makkachin in conversation. Victor is very upset that we had to leave him in St. Petersburg.”

 _Yes, mom._ Yurio thought, but instead he said, “I’m not stupid. I _know_ how much Makkachin means to Victor.”

Yuuri smiled. “Of course you do.”

Victor walked up to them, jingling a pair of keys in his hand. “Ready?”

“Yep!”

“Whatever.”

“Great! Then get in the car and let’s go!”

They loaded up the trunk and climbed in. Yuuri took the front passenger seat while Yurio sat in the back.

“Where are we going first?” Yuuri asked.

“Sergiev Posad,” Victor answered, pulling out his phone and entering the address. Then he handed it over to Yuuri. “Can you be my navigator, please?”

“Of course.”

Victor put his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “You’re the star I always navigate by.”

In the back seat Yurio made a gagging noise.

 

They drove through Moscow for a while and Yuuri kept one eye on the view outside, not wanting to miss anything. The main trick was to make it onto the main road out of the city and after that they could relax and enjoy the view out of the windows. Occasionally Victor would point at a building and explain what it was.

And then they left the suburbs and the road was surrounded by forests which alternated with fields.

“Can we have some music?” Yurio asked and Victor turned on the radio.

After a while Yurio groaned. “Are you going to hold hands for _every_ love song? Ugh! I’d rather listen to classical music!”

 

It was just over an hour’s drive to their first destination and once they spotted the domes of churches they knew they were nearly there.

“It’s beautiful,” Yuuri whispered, staring out at the largest amount of churches he’d ever seen in one place. They were all gathered within a fortress as if their builders were afraid they would run off somewhere.

Victor found parking and they got out of the car. They took turns posing and taking photos of each other, before going in through the main gates. Crowds of tourists filled the area and Yuuri heard people speak at least five different languages. The women wore scarves to cover their heads. It was Sunday and so church bells rang incessantly.

“Yuri,” Katsuki said over his shoulder, “stay close to us. You don’t want to get lost.” He offered the Russian Yuri his hand, but he didn’t take it.

Victor pulled Yuuri closer. “Where do you want to start?”

They went from church to church until they came to a big square with a beautiful fountain in the middle. Birds flew overhead. In front of them was a tall blue and white church that they soon discovered had been converted into a souvenir shop. There Yurio had his first chance at revenge as he picked out wooden and glass cats.

Victor smiled and paid for them all.

They went to the next church and Yuuri stared up in awe at the interior: the gold chandeliers, the gold icons and painted walls, even the way the light fell in through the windows.

Victor pulled something out of his bag and with one sweeping movement draped it over Yuuri’s head. It was a veil made from very delicate lace.

“It’s a family heirloom,” Victor whispered, his face suddenly really close to Yuuri’s. “It was once my great-great-grandmother’s. The brides in my family all wore it.” His hands were on Yuuri’s shoulders as he turned around to smile at Yurio. “Look at my fiancé, Yurio, isn’t he beautiful? I feel so lucky! I must be the luckiest man alive.” He smiled at Yuuri.

Anticipating Victor’s request, Yurio took photos of them and said, “You’ll need candles.”

“You’re right! Here,” Victor pulled some change out of his pocket and handed it to Yurio.

“Why do we need candles?” Yuuri asked.

“Because it’s traditional for weddings,” Victor explained, sounding really pleased with himself.

Yuuri blushed.

Several minutes later Yurio returned with two candles and he gave one to each of them.

“Am I not the luckiest man alive?” Victor asked no one in particular, holding Yuuri’s free hand and lighting his own candle from one of the candles burning nearby. He then used it to light Yuuri’s.

Yurio watched without a word. He snapped more photos, suddenly struck by the fact that the couple looked like they’d just stepped out of a painting, despite their modern clothes and Yuuri’s glasses. They put their candles with those left by other visitors in complete silence. This was probably when oaths were supposed to be made, but they didn’t need any. Victor folded the veil back over Yurri’s head to open up his face and leaned down for a kiss. Their rings gleamed in the light of the candles.

Plisetsky watched and wondered if anyone was going to come yell at them for their impromptu wedding. Or almost wedding. But no one seemed to notice and they had a small corner all to themselves.

Victor pulled away and looked into Yuuri’s eyes. He still held the ends of the veil and Yuuri raised his hands and put them over Victor’s.

Yurio was tired of taking photos and of all of the tension between the love-crazed couple. He counted to ten in his head and then put his phone away. “I’m going back to the car.”

Victor tore his gaze away from Yuuri with great difficulty. “But, Yurio, we haven’t seen everything yet.”

“Then what are we standing around here for?”

As they stepped out into the sunshine Yurio tried to ignore the fact that they were holding hands, or that Yuuri still had the veil draped over his head and he _definitely_ didn’t notice how much it suited him.

“Let’s take a photo outside!” Victor said and Yurio reached for his phone.

“Why don’t we get the three of us together?” Yuuri suggested and Victor beamed.

“Yes! Of course!”

“I really don’t –” Yurio began, but Victor was already talking to a random tourist and handing her his phone.

“Can you take a photo of us, please?”

“Oh my god!” the elderly lady exclaimed. “You’re Victor Nikiforov!”

“I am and you can have my autograph after you take our photo and only if no one else notices us.”

The lady got all flustered and held up the phone, hoping no one else would look their way.

Yurio watched Victor give her his autograph afterwards and then looked at Yuuri, who was still in awe of the veil.

“It really doesn’t bother you that he’s so famous, does it?”

“Hmm…? Of course not!”

Yurio shook his head. “Come on. I noticed they were selling kvass near the entrance. Let’s go try some.”

 

When they got back to the car Yurio claimed the front seat. “You two keep holding hands and it’s getting really annoying _especially_ since someone is supposed to be driving us.” He glared at Victor. “And I can’t stand all this boring music!” He climbed into the car, hooked up his phone and heavy metal music blasted from the speakers to his great satisfaction.

Victor laughed and got into the driver’s seat.

Yuuri sat behind him and put his hands on Victor’s shoulders. “Where are we going next?”

“Pereslavl-Zalessky.”

The weather was good for the rest of the journey and they even stopped at Lake Pleshcheyevo for a short swim. Yurio sat on a beach packed with people, watching over everyone’s stuff and eating ice cream while the living figure skating legend and his fiancé made fools of themselves in the water.

 _How is your vacation going?_ Otabek texted him.

_It’s awful. The worst vacation ever. Those two won’t stop being lovey-dovey and it’s disgusting!_

_The photos you posted are beautiful._

Yurio reclined on the blanket Yuuri had laid out for him earlier. Beside him one of the phones started to ring. He answered it without thinking.

“Yuuri! I thought we agreed that you were going to invite me to your wedding!”

 _Stupid Victor!_ _Why did he post that photo?_ Yurio hadn’t posted any of the photos he’d taken of the mock wedding, but he wasn’t surprised to learn that Victor had posted the one they’d taken outside.

“This isn’t Katsudon. He didn’t get married. No, he can’t come to the phone right now. Go away,” Yurio said it all in one breath.

“Ah! Russian Yuri! How are you? This is Phichit!”

“Yes, I figured that out.”

“Oh no, are mommy and daddy not paying attention to you?”

“‘Mommy and daddy’ aren’t here. They’re in Moscow. I’m not. I’m in stupid Pereslavl-Zalessky, also known as middle of nowhere. By the side of a lake.”

“Okay. Tell Yuuri to call me back later.”

“I’m not his secretary.”

“Nope, you’re just his angsty teenage son. Lucky him: barely married, but already has one.”

“Bye,” Yurio hung up and stared up at the blue sky. Those two were taking forever. If there was one thing that he was happy about it was that the beach had no sand for them to build sandcastles with. Even so, he had a strong urge to hitch a ride back to Moscow and stay with his proper family.

A shadow fell over him. It was Victor blocking out the sunlight. “Did you put on sunscreen?”

“No.”

“Then you should stay in the shade.” Victor reached down and picked up his phone.

“Whatever. Where’s Katsudon?”

“Changing. He’ll be here in a minute.”

“His stupid friend called.”

“And how is he?”

“Wanted to know why you had the wedding without him.”

Victor smiled. “That wasn’t a wedding.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Besides, I’m going to get married to Yuuri –”

“ –when he wins a Grand Prix gold medal, blah, blah, blah! I _know!_ You both said so at least 100 times.”

Victor stared at him. “I was going to say I’m going to get married to him as many times as I can.”

“You’re gross.”

“It’s romantic.”

“Whatever.” Then Yurio sat up. “Listen, Victor, I haven’t posted any of those photos and if you can’t control yourselves, I’m deleting all of them, including this one.” He held up his phone to demonstrate a really good shot of Yuuri in the veil and then snatched his arm away before Victor could make a grab for the phone. “Got that?”

“Oh, Yuri, come on!”

Yuuri returned before anything else could be said. He eyed both of them curiously. “Are we ready to go? Did you want anything, Yuri? Maybe a cold drink or another ice cream?”

“Stop fussing! I’m not a kid!” He got up to his feet and kicked the grass. “I’m _bored_. Let’s just go!”

“Yuri, come on, don’t be like that,” Victor said and tried to put an arm on his shoulder, but Yurio flinched away.

“I said stop it, alright?”

For some reason they weren’t calling him Yurio anymore. It made him suspicious. Maybe they were hoping that would persuade him to give up the front seat to Katsuki, but it wasn’t going to work.

They drove into the city and wandered around the main square (picking up more souvenirs for Yuri at the market there) before checking in to their hotel.

“Let’s go have dinner,” Victor said. “I think I saw a nice place nearby.”

It turned out to be a twenty minute walk away, which was alright since the evening was a warm and pleasant one, but already clouds were starting to gather overhead.

And, of course, the minute they finished eating and left the restaurant it was pouring. They didn’t have any coats or umbrellas with them, the weather having been so warm and sunny earlier. There was nothing to do but run through the rain and hope for the best.

Yuuri kept turning around to make sure that Plisetsky was following them. Victor clutched his hand tightly, dragging him onwards. There was a moment of panic when they made a wrong turn and what should have been a five minute run dragged out into ten minutes.

Victor rushed them into the lobby and then up the stairs to their rooms. “Come on! Quickly! Change into something dry!”

“Calm down!” Plisetsky shouted back. “It’s fine. We’re not made from sugar!” And he stormed off into his room, banging the door behind him.

Victor took Yuuri into their room and made him change into dry clothes. Only then did he change into something dry himself.

“Are you alright?” Victor asked.

“Of course I am. It’s just a bit of rain. It never hurt anyone.”

“Your hair is all wet.”

“So is yours.”

Victor leaned forward. “And your face is a little wet.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Your eyelashes are definitely wet.”

Yuuri smiled and leaned closer.

There was a loud banging on the door and Yuuri was about to go open it, but Victor held him in place. “It’s probably Yurio –”

“You promised you’d stop calling him that,” Yuuri reminded him.

“Of course! But I think he can wait.”

“Oy! Can you two get over each other for three seconds and open the door?”

Yuuri closed his eyes. “Hmmm… I doubt it.”

Victor rubbed his nose against Yuuri’s affectionately and then pulled away. He opened the door and Yurio barged in past him to flop down on the bed with his arms folded under his head.

“It’s only 9 o’clock and we can’t go out because it’s raining. What will we do now?”

“Let’s play a game,” Victor suggested.


	3. Apples

_A big golden carriage rolled up to the grand staircase, rattling loudly on the cobblestones. A man in a suit rushed to open the door and a tall figure in a long white dress stepped out. As the figure climbed the stairs it was easier to make out the details of the dress, like the multiple layers of lace that it was made from and the way it sparkled in the sun. Soon the face was recognizable under the veil. It was Victor Nikiforov. He stopped and held out his hand._

Yuuri awoke and the first sight to greet him was that of Victor’s face half buried in the pillow. His eyelashes trembled slightly as he slept and Yuuri wondered what he dreamt about. He snuggled up close to him and closed his eyes. They were still holding hands so he lifted one to his face as he drifted off again and felt the gentle brush of the gold ring against his cheek.

 

When Victor awoke the bed beside him was empty. He sat up, looking for Yuuri only to find him sitting by the mirror on the wall with the veil over his head.

“Good morning! You’re up early.”

“Not really. I got up less than ten minutes ago.”

Victor climbed out of bed and stood next to him. “It really suits you,” he whispered.

Yuuri’s face wasn’t covered by the veil and Victor noticed that for some reason he wasn’t wearing his glasses. “You think so?” He stared up at him. “I was just thinking it would look better on you.”

“White lace looks better on black hair.”

Yuuri pulled it off slowly.

“My raven-haired beauty,” Victor whispered and leaned in for a kiss. He stopped centimeters away from Yuuri’s face. “What’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

Tears were flowing down Yuuri’s face. “Nothing… Nothing is wrong. I’m crying because I’m happy.” His face split into a smile.

Victor put his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders.

The door swung open and Yuri barged in. “You didn’t lock the door?” He exclaimed and took in the sight of Yuuri and Victor. The door closed behind him as he dashed across the room and pushed Victor away from Yuuri.

“Did stupid Victor hurt you? Why are you crying?” He punched Victor without even turning around to look at him.

“Please! Yuri, it’s alright.” Yuuri grabbed Plisetsky by the arms to keep him from throwing any more punches. “It’s fine. I was just crying because I’m happy.”

“Stupid reason to cry,” Yuri muttered to cover his embarrassment. Then he glared at Victor. “Are you going to put any clothes on, or do you plan on standing there naked all day?”  He put a protective arm around Yuuri. “Why you got engaged to this moron I will never understand.” Then, with an evil smile, he added, “You don’t have to do _everything_ your coach tells you. Victor barely does half of what Yakov tells him.”

Yuuri and Victor stared at each other.

“Yuuri doesn’t do everything I tell him either!” Victor complained and made a sad face. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m no good as a coach.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to contradict him, but Plisetsky interrupted. “Don’t stroke his ego, Yuuri. He just needs to hear how wonderful he is on a regular basis.”

“You think I’m wonderful, Yuri?”

“I think you’re annoying. If we don’t go down for breakfast in ten minutes, I’m going back to Moscow even if I have to walk the whole way!”

 

When they arrived in Rostov they made straight for the tall white towers of the Kremlin near Lake Nero. It took them some time to purchase tickets, not because there was a line but because they couldn’t decide what they wanted to see and each part of the Kremlin had its own separate ticket. Yuri ended the argument with “just buy all of them, already!”

Victor was the first one to enter the territory. The two Yuris followed close behind, taking in the sight of the inner courtyard with a small pond and big churches around them. Victor looked around thoughtfully.

“This seems oddly familiar.”

“You said you’ve never been here before,” Yuuri reminded him.

“I haven’t, but I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere before.”

“In photos, maybe?”

Yuri frowned. “I recognize this too.”

They walked on, taking photos of their surroundings.

“Got it!” Victor exclaimed as they entered another inner courtyard. He grinned at Yuri. “Ivan Vasilievich!”

“Yes!”

Yuuri Katsuki watched them laugh, wondering what the joke was.

“They filmed a movie here,” Victor explained. “At least, I think they did. Those towers are just like the ones in the movie.”

“Oh. Is it a good movie?”

“It’s really funny. When we get to the hotel this evening we will watch it.” He hooked an arm around Yuuri’s. “And I think they had a scene right here with marching soldiers and singing horses.”

“Singing horses?”

“You’ll see what I mean.”

“There’s a sign for a ceramics workshop,” Yuri said. “I want a ceramic cat. Come on!”

Yuuri smiled at Victor and followed Plisetsky into a small workshop a good portion of which was filled up by a display of all kinds of ceramic animals of different sizes. Yuri’s face split into a mad grin.

“I want all of them,” he told Victor.

“Alright.”

“Victor!” Yuuri hissed. “Aren’t you going to argue? He’ll ruin you at this rate!”

“That’s okay, if it’s for my dear Yuri.” He patted Yuri on the head and snatched his arm away when Yuri hissed at him angrily. “I think you’re starting to turn into a cat yourself!”

“Why do some of these have holes in them?” Yuuri asked, picking up a small owl.

One of the staff members walked out then and told them the history of the ceramic industry. Plisetsky whispered a translation in English for Katsuki’s benefit. The woman lifted one of the ceramic animals and demonstrated how it worked. It made a whistling noise.

She also told them the story of those whistles. “Young men and women would meet at markets, fall in love and then go home to their cities. At dawn they would go outside and play the whistles.”

“So lovers played this to send messages to each other?” Yuuri asked mystified.

“It was supposed to be a unique signal,” Victor added.

Yuuri lifted the one he was holding to his lips and blew into it the way that the woman had.

Victor smiled, picked up a small rooster and attempted to whistle back with it, but it made no sound.

Plisetsky burst out laughing.

The woman showed Victor how to place his fingers so that the whistle made a noise. She was slightly alarmed by the fact that he looked ready to burst into tears. He tried again, his eyes fixed on Yuuri.

Yuri Plisetsky had to endure five whole minutes of tuneless whistling back and forth. When his patience ran out he went up to the lady at the table and pointed at each cat in turn. “I want those, that one, and that one…” He went on for a while, then turned around and pointed at the two skaters. “Those two whistles (and I don’t mean the embarrassments to the skating profession). Also, do you take cards?”

“Cash only.”

“Oy! Victor, pay up! They only take cash.”

Yuuri nearly dropped his whistle. “Yuri!”

Victor reached for his wallet. “That’s alright. I should have enough.”

The woman looked more nervous than everyone else as she packed away the biggest purchase of cats she’d ever seen.

Yuri walked out with four full bags and a triumphant smirk.

“He’ll ruin you at this rate!” Yuuri whispered.

“Whatever keeps him happy.” Victor put an arm around Yuuri. “Let’s go to that church next and then up on the walls!”

 

The perimeter wall connected several towers and provided nice views of the inner courtyard. It was also the place where Victor and Yuri decided to take silly photos. Plisetsky climbed up onto a ledge and stuck a funny pose against an arch.

“Hurry up, Katsudon!”

Yuuri snapped photos, mystified as to what it all meant.

In one of the towers Yuri and Victor sat on benches, their heads supported by one arm and a mock sad look on each of their faces. Yuuri had to take photos of that too and then switch places with Plisetsky.

This went on all the way around and then they got down to find the stairs up to the observation tower for a better view of their surroundings. Yuuri peered out at the monastery in the distance. The gold domes gleamed in the sun, making it painful to stare at them for too long.

Lake Nero sparkled invitingly and for a moment the world was at peace.

“I thought I saw an orchard when we were going around on the walls,” Victor said. “Do you think they have apple trees?”

“I want an apple,” Yuri declared and hurried off down the stairs.

 

Victor and Yuuri stood amongst rows of apple trees, holding Yuri’s bags of cats and watching him scale a tree in the quest for apples.

“Katsudon!” Yuri called. “Catch!”

Yuuri handed the bags in his hands to Victor and ran towards the rain of apples.

Visitors were allowed to pick their own apples and there were even ladders provided for their use, but Yuri had the time of his life climbing among the branches.

“Oy! Katsudon! Can you make apple pie?”

“No,” Katsuki admitted.

“Then you better learn. Promise me you’ll bake these apples into a pie.”

“I promise! Just be careful up there. What if you fall?”

“Then you better catch me.”

Yuuri’s hands were full of apples, but he nodded anyway. How could he not at such a show of faith?

“Okay. That’s it for this tree.” Plisetsky climbed down.

“I think it’s time for a break,” Victor intervened. “Let’s go to the café over there.”

Soon all three of them were sitting at a table outside, drinking non-alcoholic mead. Yuri got a slice of apple pie as a reward for his efforts. He made Yuuri repeat his promise to bake a pie.

“We passed a small market outside the Kremlin,” Yuri said casually, tucking into his slice. “Can we go there next?”

“I don’t see why not,” Victor shrugged.

 

Yuuri sat in the front on the road to Yaroslavl as Plisetsky arranged the bags of his trophies in the back. He felt the satisfaction of a job well done. He smiled in anticipation of the mountains of cats his apartment would have in the near future.

Suddenly Victor hit the brakes.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked.

“Nothing. It’s just that we passed so many old ladies selling fruits by the road that I think I want to buy something.”

“Uh… Is this a good idea?”

“Of course it is!”

Victor got out and strolled casually to an elderly lady who sat at a table loaded with boxes of fruit as well as piles of vegetables. There were even strings of garlic. He smiled and said hello and asked for the prices. She answered with her own smile and then asked him her own question.

“St. Petersburg,” Yuuri heard Victor say in Russian.

She got into a long story probably of a relative, or a friend who lived there and by the time Victor walked away he was carrying more than he’d originally intended to buy. And a bag of hard candies, oddly enough. These he handed to Yuuri.

“Sweets for the sweet.”

“Yuri, do you want one?” Katsuki asked.

“Yes! I love those!”

There followed a short argument over which hard candies were the best, because both Victor and Yuri wanted Yuuri to try their favourite ones first. It ended when Yuuri said he was going to eat the berries instead. At that they got back in the car and set off again.

“These raspberries are delicious!” Yuuri exclaimed after a while. “Would you like some, Victor?”

“Definitely!”

Yuuri held out a dozen berries and Victor ate them right off his palm, his lips brushing against Katsuki’s skin. Yuuri blushed. In the back seat Yuri screamed.

“Keep your eyes on the road, you lovesick moron!”

“But the road reflects so nicely in my Yuuri’s eyes!”

Yuri grabbed Victor’s head and turned it to face forward. “No. Watch the road. And, Katsudon, don’t you dare do that ever again!”

 

Yaroslavl was the next city on their itinerary. After raiding a gift shop in the Yaroslavl Kremlin for anything cat-shaped they went off to have dinner near the main square.

They ate in silence. Yuri finished first and stared out the window. The sun was starting to set and he imagined the walk across the bridge and back to the hotel.

“What are you thinking about?” Victor asked. “Where you’ll put all those cats?”

The chair next to Yuri supported a big bag.

“No, I was thinking how sad it must’ve been for those people who met up in markets and could only whistle to their loved ones afterwards.”

Victor gave Yuuri a puzzled look.

“It’s the story from the ceramics workshop,” Yuuri reminded him.

“I’m sure they found each other eventually,” Victor put an arm around Yuuri, while still looking at Yuri.

Plisetsky made a non-committal noise in reply. He didn’t seem convinced.

“Is something bothering you, Yuri?” Katsuki asked.

“No, just that story. All of those whistles sounded the same to me.”

“Maybe they made them differently back then.”

“But what about tone deaf people? Or just deaf people?”

Yuuri and Victor exchanged puzzled looks.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said. “Maybe they asked someone for help?”

Yuri continued to stare out the window, obviously not satisfied with this answer.

Yuuri and Victor exchanged another look and then Yuuri leaned forward and said very carefully. “Yuri, is there something you want to talk about?”

“I need the bathroom,” Yuri got up and left.

“What was that about?” Katsuki asked quietly.

“I don’t know.”

“Yuri is very kind-hearted.”

“Oh, I know that.” Victor pulled Yuuri close. “Both of my Yuris are,” he whispered and kissed him.

For a moment Yuuri forgot where they were or what they were doing there.

“I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re making out again,” Yuri muttered, but there was no hint of the usual anger in his voice.

Yuuri blushed and pulled himself away from Victor. “Sorry, Yuri.”

“Let’s go back. I want to watch that movie.”

 

They lay on the floor of Yuri’s room to watch the movie on Victor’s phone. As far as Yuuri could understand the plot it was about a Russian scientist in the 1973 who made a time machine and two people got trapped in 16th century Russia, while Ivan the Terrible got stuck in 1973.

It wasn’t very comfortable and the screen was small and Victor kept pausing it to translate, but when they got to the chase scene none of that mattered. Victor had to hit pause as they laughed themselves silly. Yuri laughed the loudest and he fell over on top of Yuuri, unable to stay still. Victor, not to be outdone, buried his head in Yuuri’s shoulder.

Now all the silly photos and odd poses made sense. Yuuri couldn’t wait to go through the photos.

As the movie went on Victor translated less and less of the dialogue and by the end he was silent. Yuuri turned his head and realized that Victor had fallen sleep. He shifted away carefully.

“What are you going to do?” Plisetsky whispered. “You better not leave him here!”

“Of course not!” Yuuri slid his arms under Victor and picked him up. It took a lot of effort and he had to lift him in stages until he could stand at last.

Yuri went to get the door and then he had to get Yuuri’s key from his pocket to open the door to the other room. He watched as Yuuri placed Victor carefully on the bed. Victor rolled over onto his side and continued to sleep.

The two Yuris exchanged smiles.

“Here,” Plisetsky held out Victor’s phone. “I don’t want this in my room.”

“Thank you.”

Plisetsky left, closing the door behind him.

 

Yuuri awoke, feeling Victor gently kiss his face.

“Yurochka…”

“Viten’ka…”

There was a knock on the door.

“Yuri must be hungry,” Victor whispered.

“I have your room key,” Plisetsky warned, “so I’m coming in whether you like it or not.”

“It’s not easy having a teenage son,” Victor joked and climbed out of bed.

Yuuri sat up. “Son?”

The Russian skater opened the door. “Yes, son. What do you think, Yuri? Are you our son?”

“What? Don’t say such stupid things early in the morning!”

“Then I’ll say them at lunch,” Victor promised.

Yuuri took one look at Plisetsky and changed the topic before a fight could break out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone told me that story about the whistles, but when I looked for it online, I couldn't find anything, so it's probably wrong. Or maybe my memory of it is wrong. Just pretend that in their universe this is true.


	4. Bedsheets

Kostroma, the next city on their list, was the first place where Victor showed any interest in buying something for himself. They found a linen store and Victor spent an eternity going through various sets of bedsheets while Yuuri wondered why the choice was so important. Yuri was eyeing him warily.

“You really _are_ clueless, aren’t you?” he hissed to the Japanese Yuuri.

“Why?”

“I think Victor is waiting for your opinion.”

“Why?”

“Does the word ‘wedding’ suggest nothing to you?”

Yuuri turned bright red and threw a look at Victor who was at the other side of the store at that moment.

Plisetsky sighed. “I’m waiting outside. If you want to go anywhere today, I recommend going up to him, pointing at a random one and saying ‘I like this one’. But,” he grabbed Yuuri by the arm before he could even think about moving, “wait until I leave, I _don’t_ want to see his reaction. And _try_ to remember that I’m waiting outside for you.”

He slipped out discretely.

Yuuri watched Victor make the store owner go to the back and fetch more options for him to go through. _There is too much choice_ , he thought. Something plain and simple would surely be just fine. He put his hands on his cheeks. He could still feel his face burning from Yuri’s suggestion. This was it. He had to put his foot down before they _did_ get stuck here for the rest of the day. He let out a breath and crossed to the other side of the store. He peered at the items scattered over the counter. It really _wasn’t_ as easy as it looked.

“This one,” he said, pointing at a white set embroidered with gold. He put a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “I’ll pay for it.”

“Yuuri!”

“No, we’re not arguing about this. You spent too long making up your mind. This one.” He looked at the lady at the counter and realized he was speaking in English, which she didn’t understand a word of.

He opened his mouth to repeat his request in Russian, but Victor beat him to it. He _did_ let Yuuri pay, surprisingly enough.

And then he wondered if it was some sort of custom he hadn’t heard of that had a deeper meaning. He made a mental note to ask Yuri about it later.

Victor took him by the hand as they left the store and Yuuri paused on the sidewalk in anticipation of a kiss before realizing what he was doing. How quickly this had all become completely natural!

He spotted Plisetsky lying on a bench, texting someone. There was a sad look on his face and Yuuri wondered what had upset him so much.

“Yuuri, why are you ignoring me?” Victor asked.

“Yuri looks really sad. Do you think we’re upsetting him too much?”

“I don’t think it’s us.” Victor released his fiancé and strode over to the bench where Yuri was waiting for them. “Ready to go?”

“Did you finally pick something?” Yuri glared up at him. “Is this all we came to Kostroma for?”

“Of course not! Let’s go for a walk. And then there was that monastery.”

“Not more churches!”

“Let’s see what else they have. I want ice cream!”

They bickered half-heartedly until Victor found more cats for Yuri.

“I’m buying them this time,” Yuuri intervened.

“Oh no,” Plisetsky said, “the deal was that Victor buys them.”

“But surely it doesn’t matter which of us pays for them?”

“Of course it does!”

“Why?”

“Because Victor is the annoying one.”

“I don’t annoy you, Yuri?”

“Fine. Buy them. See if I care if you waste your money on me!”

Yuuri moved to stand right next to him. “How about this,” he suggested quietly, “you pick the one you like the most and I will buy it for you?”

Yuri pointed without saying a word. Much later when Yuuri and Victor visited Yuri at his apartment that was the cat that got the place of honour among his collection.

Victor watched the whole conversation in mute astonishment.

 

The drive to Suzdal passed in relaxed silence. Yuuri stared out the window at the passing trees. Sometimes the landscape would include a small town or a river. Several times they passed fields of wheat or cabbages. The countryside was also full of houses with intricately carved wooden façades. He wondered what it was like to live here, far away from any big city and threw a sideways look at Victor.

One of the things he’d noticed during his time in St. Petersburg was how used Victor was to life in a big city. He had no trouble sleeping in a noisy place (and once complained that it was too quiet). Yuuri remembered how once he woke up in the middle of the night because someone was singing drunkenly right outside their window while Victor kept on sleeping. Victor also had a habit of remembering something he wanted to buy late in the evening and then going out to get it,

“Yuuri, you’ve been staring at me for the last ten minutes. Did you want to say something, or are you just admiring the view?”

“I-it’s nothing.”

Victor reached out and took Yuuri’s hand. “You can stare at me for as long as you like.” He frowned. “I’m the one stuck staring at this ugly road instead of your beautiful eyes.”

“You better remember that,” Yuri chimed in from the back seat, “or Yuuri is moving here.”

“You’re so harsh!”

“Look, if you need to get it out of your system, we can stop somewhere.”

“We’re almost there,” Yuuri told them and a sign by the road confirmed his words.

 

Suzdal charmed them with its architecture and they really enjoyed roaming through the village made up of wooden houses brought in from different towns in that region.

“Yuuri, we should buy ourselves a house like this!” Victor exclaimed, admiring the old furniture and the Russian oven in the corner. “Imagine long winter nights lying on that oven as a snowstorm rages outside.”

“I’d rather not think about snowstorms right now,” Yuuri told him.

“And then something rattles loudly and I get scared and you hold my hand and promise to protect me,” Victor went on.

Yuuri waited patiently for Victor to finish.

“Yuri, meanwhile is asleep without a care in the world –”

“Oy! Don’t include me in your weird fantasies!”

“–Because he knows his fathers will protect him,” Victor finished.

Yuri ran out of the room.

“Victor!”

“Oh, don’t pay attention to him. He secretly enjoys it.”

Yuuri eyed him doubtfully.

Victor put an arm around him. “Let’s go find him.”

They found him after a ten minute search sitting on a swing and glaring at the world.

“Yuri –”

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it, so let’s just go.”

“Alright.”

“And I don’t want any more cats!” Plisetsky stormed off, Katsuki and Nikiforov hurrying to keep up behind him.

 

On the way to Vladimir the inevitable happened.

“According to the GPS the hotel should be on the left in half a kilometer,” Yuuri said, “but that’s not right. We’re driving through a forest.”

Ten minutes of driving passed in silence, during which Yuuri was starting to panic.

Another ten minutes passed with Yuri grumbling angrily in the back seat. The rant started from “why did I agree to come?” and got stuck on “we’re lost in the middle of nowhere!”

And then even Victor’s patience seemed to have run out and he pulled over.

“Don’t tell me we’ve run out of gas!” Yuri panicked.

“I need to stretch my legs,” Victor said and got out of the car.

“Wait here, Katsudon,” Yuri said and followed Victor.

They stood several steps away from the car. Yuuri watched them eye each other warily and then Yuri exploded into a long rant in Russian. As the expressions he used got fouler Victor lost his cool as well. Yuuri had never heard such language from him.

“Why can’t you just enjoy yourself for once?” Victor exclaimed and that was the cleaned up version.

“Why did you take me? I didn’t ask to come!” Yuri shouted back with an equal amount of curse words inserted.

It didn’t look like either of them was going to stop. Yuuri wondered what to do. Get out of the car and join the argument?

He looked at Victor’s phone where he’d entered the GPS coordinates earlier and put in the street address instead. The phone thought about them for a while and then calculated a route. 20 minutes, it promised.

Yuuri opened the door and stepped out. “I put the coordinates in wrong. Come on, get back in the car. We’re only 20 minutes away.”

Victor and Yuri eyed each other.

“Look, it’s –”

“I’m sorry,” Victor said and Plisetsky apologized right after him. But they were both apologizing to Yuuri. He gave Victor a meaningful look.

“Sorry…” Victor mumbled to Plisetsky.

Yuri just nodded and climbed back into the car.

The drive into Vladimir passed in silence except for the chatter on the radio. And it really _was_ chatter this time, since Yuuri set it to a station that didn’t play any music. He folded his hands over his chest and stared out the window, glancing back at the GPS from time to time.

When they arrived at the hotel Yuuri beat Victor to the reception desk, the passports already in his hand. He put them down on the desk and said, “Good evening! We want to check in, please,” in Russian.

The receptionist nodded and went through the standard questions that Yuuri answered himself, not letting either of the Russian skaters get a word in. When he finished, he took the room keys and passports and turned around.

“Let’s go?”

Yuri and Victor both stared at him in surprise.

“What is it?”

“You were… speaking Russian,” Victor said in disbelief.

“I know my accent is awful. Did I mispronounce something?”

“No, that was right,” Victor said. Yuuri noticed he was blushing. “You have a nice accent!”

Plisetsky eyed him warily.

They headed for the elevator, Plisetsky making a point of standing between them. The doors closed.

“You can speak Russian?” Victor exclaimed, obviously still having a hard time accepting what he’d heard.

“Yes,” Yuuri answered. “How do you think I got by all this time we’ve lived together? I’ve lived here for six months now; it would’ve been strange if I hadn’t picked up any words at all. Some of them, I’m sorry to say, I wish I didn’t know.”

Victor looked guilty at this. “Ah! Um…” He fidgeted.

Yuri laughed.

“So all this time we’ve been translating for you, you didn’t need us to?”

“I didn’t understand _all_ of the words,” Yuuri said, trying to reassure him.

The elevator arrived at their floor and they stepped out. Yuri headed for his room, taking the key out of Yuuri’s hand before anyone could stop him.

Yuuri watched Victor out of the corner of his eye as they walked down the hall to their room.

Victor closed the door behind them, turned around to face him and leaned against it.

“Say something in Russian,” Victor whispered.

“W-what do you want me to say?”

“Anything.”

Yuuri stared down at his feet. He didn’t want to say just anything. It felt wrong somehow. The blood rushed to his face as he realized exactly what he should say. “Я люблю тебя.” _I love you._

He heard the lock click in the door and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered how long Yuri would be willing to wait for them this time before he kicked the door down.

“I was going to wait,” Victor said quietly and he was speaking Russian now. “I’m not really sure what for. The wedding maybe?” He laughed. “But with a declaration like that I don’t think I can anymore.”

Yuuri remained still.

“Well?” Victor looked at him. “Are you going to say anything?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re going to say ‘no’, you should say it now before I come anywhere near you.”

The only response Yuuri could think of was to kiss him.

 

Yuri Plisetsky wandered aimlessly around his room. This was going to be a long and dull evening. He opened the drawers, wondering if there was anything in there to keep him entertained. He found a binder with hotel information and flipped through it until he got to a page advertising the hotel restaurant. That gave him something to do, at least.

What the Japanese Yuuri didn’t know was that while he showed off the Russian he’d learned Victor had slipped him most of the cash he had left. The message was clear. And then there was the look on Victor’s face. _There_ was something he didn’t want to think about.

He needed to take his mind off it all, including the argument that they’d had. He still felt guilty about it, but he’d die before admitting that.

_I’m in Vladimir,_ he texted Otabek. _I’m soo bored._

_Aren’t Victor and Yuuri with you?_

_No._ He considered elaborating and decided it was a bad idea. _Can I call you?_

_Sure._

Eating dinner while talking to someone on the phone was bad manners, but Yuri didn’t care. This way he could pretend they were having dinner together despite the distance and the time difference. It was only later in the evening that he realized that a thought like that was something that would have occurred to Victor. He couldn’t sleep for a long time afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as I know there are no bedsheets-related customs or superstitions. If you know of any, let me know!


	5. Apple Pie

_There was a tall building made of intricately carved stone at the top of the hill. Crowds flocked to the top, eager to go inside. He climbed with them, fighting for each step, but when he reached the top the crowd vanished. He tried the big oak doors, but they were locked. He walked around and tried other doors, but they were also locked. He put a hand on the wall and the white stone shifted away from his touch._

_He couldn’t get in! Something important was waiting for him inside, but he couldn’t get in!_

_He panicked, ran around and tried all of the doors again._

_Snow fell, burying him up to his waist and then his chest and then…_

Yuuri awoke, feeling one of Victor’s elbows digging painfully into his side. He felt anxious, but didn’t know why. Afraid of waking Victor, he didn’t dare move. He tried to remember what he’d dreamt about, but the dream had slipped away.

Victor turned his head and now his nose was pressed against Yuuri’s neck. Oddly enough, this didn’t feel pleasant either. Victor’s arms tightened around him. It was getting hard to breathe. It was also getting ridiculous.

Yuuri freed himself gently and shifted Victor’s limbs around so he could be more comfortable. Victor continued to sleep.

If someone had told him a year ago that he’d be sleeping with his idol and finding it really uncomfortable, he would have thought they were mad. Granted there were two bits of information that would compete for which was more unbelievable.

With a grin he turned over and clung to Victor.

 

When Yuri Plisetsky came down to breakfast the next morning (not daring to go anywhere near Yuuri and Victor’s room) he found the both of them at a table carrying on as if nothing had happened. Deciding it was one of those things he’d rather not know, he grabbed a plate and went to get food.

But when Yuri joined the other two skaters he realized his first impression was wrong and that there was something different. It was subtle like a change in the atmosphere.

“Good morning, Yuri!” Victor exclaimed and his cheery tone made Yuri wince.

“Good morning!” the Japanese Yuuri said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” Yuri lied. He sat down and hoped for a miracle: that the rest of breakfast would pass in silence. He only had to survive one more day and then they’d go home. The mad couple would return to St. Petersburg and he would stay for a while with his grandpa in Moscow.

It felt as if some deity heard his prayer, but – unfortunately – it was a deity with a twisted sense of humour. Victor didn’t eat much. He held Yuuri’s hand and just smiled at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. Yuuri smiled back and also left his food untouched.

Plisetsky rolled his eyes and tried to act as if he didn’t know them. This would’ve been easier if he could have switched tables, but they were all taken. He was stuck.

He pulled out his phone and texted Otabek. _I’m going home today. I can’t wait._

If he didn’t die from all the insanity and Victor managed to drive them to Moscow safely there was a slim chance he could survive this. He decided he would increase that chance as much as possible and promised himself that Yuuri was going to sit in the back with him and _not_ behind Victor on the drive back.

 

Dormition Cathedral in Vladimir stood at the top of a hill, no doubt for a better view of the city and its people. It was made of white stone and had five golden domes as well as a tower that supported a sixth. As the skaters ascended the hill Yuuri couldn’t shake the feeling of déjà vu. Neither could he explain it.

Yuri tried to ignore the antics of his two travelling companions as he looked for the best angle for his photo of the cathedral. The lace veil was back and they spoke only in Russian. It was starting to freak Yuri out.

_Do you know any psychiatrists?_ he texted Otabek.

_No. Why?_

_Because I think Victor and Katsudon have actually gone insane._

_Why?_

Yuri wondered how he could explain. He watched Yuuri repeat a love poem after Victor and get a kiss for not stumbling over the words. He snuck a photo of them and sent it to Otabek with the caption ‘What insanity looks like’.

“Yuri, come here!” Victor called.

Yuri pretended that he didn’t hear anything, but the two skaters caught up with him. Suddenly they engulfed him in a big hug. He froze on the spot.

“Yuri, do you want anything?” Victor asked.

“No, I’m… I’m alright.” He closed his eyes. He couldn’t get out of this.

He _didn’t want_ to get out of this.

They released him. Yuuri brushed Plisetsky’s hair out of his eyes affectionately. “Yuri, doesn’t your hair ever bother you?”

“N-no…” Why _the hell_ was he blushing? This was so stupid! “Let’s just go into the church already. I want to get home today!”

Inside the church he bought them candles with his own money and got one for himself, trying to explain to Yuuri the custom of lighting candles in churches and how it wasn’t limited to weddings.

As they walked back to the car afterwards Yuuri promised they would drop Yuri off at his grandfather’s house.

“But what about the pie you promised me?”

“Oh, I’m sure I can make it when you come back to St. Petersburg.”

“The apples will go bad by then. You’re staying at my grandfather’s until you make one!”

Victor laughed.

“You’re not invited!” Yuri snapped at him.

“Aw! Yuri, come on!”

“You’re staying outside with the car!”

They were at the car now. Plisetsky grabbed Katsuki by the arm. “Sit with me in the back!”

Yuuri smiled, “Sure.”

They moved the heaps of cats to the front seat and took their places in the back.

Victor complained a bit and then turned on the radio and sang along terribly with it instead.

The two Yuris laughed.

“How about I sit in the back and one of you drives?” Victor suggested.

“How about you keep your eyes on the road?” Yuri responded.

 

It was evening by the time they made it to Yuri’s grandpa’s apartment. Yuri only let Victor go in at Yuuri’s request and under the condition that while Yuuri baked Victor would stay out of the kitchen.

Nikolai Plisetsky greeted his grandson and his friends with a smile. He stumbled his way through greetings in English until Yuri told him not to bother. Grandpa Plisetsky was then tasked with babysitting Victor with the reminder that Victor needed to drive afterwards.

Yuuri looked up pie recipes on his phone while Yuri peeled and cut the apples.

“Try one,” Plisetsky handed him a piece.

“These apples are delicious! They will be great in the pie!”

Yuri watched the Japanese Yuuri make the crust. The sounds of the TV spilled out of the living room and into the kitchen as the refrigerator in the corner hummed quietly to itself. For a while neither of them said anything.

Suddenly he wrapped his arms around Yuuri.

“Thank you for taking me with you. I had fun.” He glared up into Yuuri’s face. “Don’t tell Victor.”

“I won’t,” Yuuri said with a chuckle.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

After they put the pie in the oven they went to check up on Victor. They found him drinking with Nikolai.

“Victor!” Yuuri exclaimed. “We have a train to St. Petersburg in two hours! And we haven’t returned the car yet!”

“I’m not drunk,” Victor assured them.

“Grandpa!” Yuri complained. “Why?”

“I thought our guests were staying overnight.” He smiled at Yuri.

Yuri had no choice but to smile back. “Alright. You get the spare bedroom, Katsudon.”

They returned to the kitchen and Yuri said, “We have thin walls.”

Yuuri blushed at the hint.

“But I’m glad you’re staying!” Yuri smiled. “Let’s make dinner!”

 

After dinner Victor went off to sleep in the spare bedroom. Grandpa Plisetsky dozed in an armchair and the two Yuris sat on the couch, going over the photos from their trip.

“I’ll send you these photos,” Yuri promised, showing him the ones from the mock wedding. He rested his head on the Japanese Yuuri’s shoulder. “This one is my favourite,” and he showed him the one he’d threatened Victor with. They stared at it in silence.

“There is something I want to talk about, but you have to promise not to tell Victor,” Yuri whispered, putting his phone away.

Yuuri shifted nervously.

“And don’t get all worried!” Yuri’s voice rose and then dropped again. He threw a look at the armchair to make sure that his grandfather was still sleeping. “You can’t do anything. No one can.”

“What is it Yuri?”

“My grandpa is getting old. Well, _obviously_ , he’s getting old, but it didn’t used to show so much.” He took Yuuri’s hand in both of his and fiddled with it. “He’s starting to go deaf and his memory’s going too. That’s why he gave Victor alcohol earlier. I mean I know no one is around forever, but…” He sighed heavily.

“I understand,” the Japanese skater said quietly. “If ever you need anything…”

Yuri nodded, his head sliding against Yuuri’s shoulder. “I haven’t seen my parents in so long,” he whispered, “but for some reason I’m more upset that you two are leaving tomorrow. It’s stupid. Maybe I’m just too used to having you two around, doing crazy things.” He was quiet for a while and then he added in a threatening tone of voice, “If Victor ever hears about any part of this conversation, I will kill you, Katsudon.”

Yuuri chuckled. “I won’t breathe a word, I promise.”

After a while Yuuri noticed that he’d gone quiet. Yuri’s hand rested casually on his knee and his grip on the Yuuri’s hands relaxed. Yuuri pulled his fingers free slowly.

“Yuri?” he whispered.

The Russian Yuri was asleep, his head using Yuuri’s shoulder as a pillow.

With a smile the Japanese Yuuri picked him up and carried him to his room. He pulled his shoes off and draped a blanket over him.

When he got back to the spare bedroom Victor was awake.

“Yuri is sleeping,” Yuuri whispered.

Victor waited for Yuuri to slip under the blanket next to him and pulled him close.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said. “This was the best vacation ever.”

“You can plan the next one,” Victor whispered back, closing his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for the comments and kudos! I wrote this one to see how many sweet scenes I could get away with.  
> Next time - either a pilot AU or the reverse AU. We'll see.


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